Osgood looked at Val and sighed deeply. “All you need to do is ask for help. Ask for it and you’ll get it.”
“I don’t need help. I need to follow the leads I currently have and keep on the trail. There’s something off about this one. But I’ve got it down.”
Osgood eyed Val intently. “And the woman? Miss Caroline Derry?”
Val stiffened. “What about her?”
Osgood shook his head. “She’s the sister of one of the victims.”
“She is.”
“And what exactly is between the two—“
“None of your business.” Val said sharply.
Val couldn’t help himself. He knew he should learn more tact and be less abrasive but where it concerned Caroline, he felt protective. He didn’t want trash magazines writing about her and he didn’t want his superintendent picking apart his life and dragging Caroline into it.
Osgood let the words trickle by. “You have two weeks. Two more weeks before I bring in another Inspector.”
Val said nothing.
“And if there’s another article about you and Miss Derry in any paper, I’ll pull you off the case.”
Val watched Osgood leave and went to stand beside Felix’s desk.
“He’s a charming fellow,” Felix said trying to lighten the mood.
Val shook his head. “We’ve work to do.”
???
The next morning, Hubert was pouring over his newspaper with coffee in hand while Caroline was across from him eating her breakfast.
“Where do you want to spend the day? We’ve not been out together in some time,” Hubert smiled at his daughter over the breakfast table.
“I don’t know. Gran and I have plans to meet at Harrod’s at eleven,” Caroline told her father. “She had a call to make but we can head there early.”
“Very well then. I’ll be ready in the half hour. Let Wilmot know to ready the carriage,” he instructed.
Together Hubert and Caroline traveled to the grand department store that had once begun as a single room employing two assistants and a messenger boy, and was now a thriving retail operation selling medicines, perfumes, stationery, fruits and vegetables, which employed over a hundred people.
It was a grand building that Caroline had always enjoyed going to, though it was bittersweet this time. Instead of Irene bouncing around from item to item and babbling the whole time while Malvina looked on, it was her somber father beside her who was immediately taken with a fine walking stick with a gold top.
“I’ll be right here Caroline,” he said as he went to take a closer look.
Caroline nodded and went to look at the gloves she had said she needed, and then moved on towards the linens. She had always admired the many linens that her mother had imported from Ireland, though her grandmother preferred the French fabrics.
“Are you being served, Miss?” The young lady behind the counter asked her.
“This linen is very fine,” Caroline said running her fingers across a swatch of fabric on the counter.
“Indeed, it is. We have a wide range of linens for the household. We have Irish, French, Scotch and English linens. We offer linens in an array of grades from the coarsest to the finest weaving depending upon the need. Some of the patterns are elaborate while others are plain. It all depends on the lady’s taste. May I show you some?”
Caroline nodded and watched as the young woman pulled out several different varieties. Why was she looking at these? Their home was very well stocked, as a proper Victorian home should be, with linen upon linen folded neatly away in the closet with lavender sachets to keep it smelling fresh.
Then she knew. It was for Val. He would need linens for his home. He would need everything for his new home to get it up and running to host parties and suppers. He would need table linen, kitchen linen; she ticked off several that came to mind.
“These floral and conventional designs are quite popular,” the assistant said as she pulled the yards of it out to show her.